


After Hours

by writingfromdarkplaces



Series: These Small Hours [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s11e09 Gut Check, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake is both a support and a distraction during Ellie's first case with NCIS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> So I was in the middle of working on Oceans Apart and rewatching season eleven to get a better sense of Ellie's character, and I ended up tempted to start a series of interludes, filling in some missing scenes to get a sense of Jake, since we only see his reaction to what happens to Ellie in a few episodes and because I'm still convinced that season thirteen shouldn't have gone where it did. I wanted to be able to know how Jake would have reacted in order to build the longer pieces better and make more headcanon (as I did here) and so if I do a whole canon fix-it fic, I will have a better basis for it.
> 
> I had a few specific moments come to me, and the one dealing with the whole Parsa angle would be long and very involved, so it might be a while before I take it on, but I figured I'd better start back at the beginning, with Ellie's first interactions with NCIS.
> 
> And then I was looking over this little bit and realized it was all from Ellie and not from Jake, but I still kind of like it, so I'm leaving it as it is.

* * *

“They pulled me in to work with NCIS today,” Ellie said, coming into the kitchen.

“I might have heard a rumor about that,” Jake said, giving her a smile before passing over a plate. He'd been home for a while, already out of his suit and tie and into a faded t-shirt and jeans. “You'll have to heat it.”

She shook her head. “I can eat it cold. It's fine.”

Jake frowned. “Won't that make it a negative association for you?”

“Not necessarily. Some leftovers are best cold,” she reminded him, reaching around him for her fork. She hopped onto the counter and started turning the fork in her pasta. “And I could use a bit of grounding.”

“Too much excitement?” Jake asked, going to the refrigerator. He took out a beer and carried it over with him, climbing up beside her. She loved moments like this, just the two of them in their shared space, and this was one of the best ways _to_ share it. She still wanted to laugh when she remembered the first time she'd talked him into sitting like this, how awkward he'd been until she'd kissed him, and now she thought he was just as fond of this spot as she was.

He'd been the one to inside on an apartment with a center island in the kitchen, not her.

“A bit,” she said, pulling herself back to their conversation. “NCIS is a whole other world. And Gibbs...”

“What about Gibbs?”

She eyed Jake, considering his tone and expression. She could talk for hours about her day and everything that had happened, but she didn't know that he wanted to talk, even if he had been waiting for her to get home. “Have you worked with him before?”

He shook his head. “No, but I've heard stories.”

She didn't doubt it. She wouldn't mind hearing them, though she could use another form of grounding right now, too. “Maybe you should tell me.”

“Maybe,” Jake said, taking a sip from his beer. She took in the look in his eyes and laughed, setting aside her plate and pulling him close for a kiss. They could talk later. She had a feeling she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

“I killed him.”

She felt Jake's arms wrap around her, and she welcomed them, trying not to shudder. She needed this, needed him. She couldn't stop thinking about it. She'd thought he was already asleep—she should have known better—and a part of her was glad he wasn't. She wasn't alone now, and she didn't want to be. 

She had done this. She had made the plan, and that plan had gotten a good man killed. A man that was like a brother to her—better, in some ways, than the ones that were her flesh and blood. He was dead because of her plan.

“You didn't pull the trigger,” Jake said, and Ellie wished that was enough. She knew she'd never stop seeing Flynderling there, lying on the ground, dead because of her. She'd assumed she knew what to do, but that was all theoretical. Her theory wasn't enough. It wasn't real, but his death, that was. He was gone.

“It was my fault. My plan. My fault.”

Jake tightened his grip on her, leaning his head against hers. “No, it isn't. Ellie, you can't control everything. You know that. You can't blame yourself for this. You couldn't have known. There was no sign of it, no reason for it, and you weren't even the one who chose to go with your plan. They could have gone another way.”

“They didn't.”

“Because other people agreed with your assessment. It's not my call to make, but I would have made the same one,” Jake told her. He kissed her temple. “I know you don't believe this, but you can't account for every variable. There is always going to be one outlier, one bit of chaos that no one can see coming.”

“I see it. I see so much—how did I not see this?”

“You're human,” Jake said. He sighed. “I wish I knew how to help you. I... I can't take the pain away or the guilt, I can't bring him back. I can't make this better for you, and I would. I'd fix it if I only knew how.”

She almost smiled. “I love that about you.”

“And I love you,” he said, giving her another kiss. “I don't blame you, and I don't think you should blame yourself. I know you still will no matter what I say, but you shouldn't.”

She nodded, closing her eyes. “You won't let go?”

“Never,” he promised. “Try and get some sleep if you can.”


End file.
